Still Learning!: Expect the Unexpected

December 1996 - January 1997

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.

by Howard Rossman

Experienced paddlers are good at picking up subtle clues from their environment

The Holberg road at the northern tip of Vancouver Island is 65 kilometres of dirt and dust, but that night it wasn't too bad. At least there were no logging trucks to worry about. Cape Scott Provincial Park campsite was our destination after a long travelling day from Vancouver to Port Hardy. Our 10th annual men's kayak trip was off to a smooth start under clear skies. Our route would take us from San Josef Bay, around Cape Scott, along the north coast of Vancouver Island, across Nahwitti Bar to Hope and Nigei Islands, through the Gordon Group and into Port Hardy in 10 paddling days. We were five seasoned, west coast paddlers, so it was with guarded confidence that I anticipated the challenge of this trip.

The weather was excellent with strong northwesterlies building by the afternoon, so we paddled early in the day and were usually at our campsites for lunch. The day we rounded Cape Scott began at 5 am. We were off the beach at Guise Bay by 7 and around the Cape by 8. At the Cape, the conflicting currents and standing waves I'd worried about weren't a problem. The huge resident colony of giant sea lions had very co-operatively departed upon our arrival. We took a photo with the Cape as background and then rested at Nissen Bight. By 10 we were enjoying a leisurely paddle, following dozens of grey whales and exploring the rock gardens along the north coast. I was feeling a little drowsy but quite pleased with myself, thinking what a breeze the Cape had been. Then the weirdest thing happened. Out of nowhere I found myself broadside on a wave breaking over a rock. My instinct was to steer into it but this proved completely ineffective. What I badly needed at that moment was an automatic brace. Unfortunately, it wasn't there. The next thing I knew, I was hanging upside-down in the ocean thinking, "I can't believe I have to wet exit right here and now!"

I came up and began my self-rescue routine. I was wearing a full wetsuit and gloves (and life jacket of course) so the cold wasn't immediately an issue. As I got my paddle float off the deck, Dan, one of the strongest paddlers I know, came along to say I was too close to the rocks and he would tow me out deeper. His life jacket had a tow line and carabiner built into it, so he handed me the 'biner which I snapped onto the U-bolt at my bow. Stu, another master paddler, appeared with a crash, as his boat road a wave onto my bow. He towed me on his rear deck, out to a kelp bed where Kent and Rod had rafted up. I climbed up and lay across the front decks of their boats, feeling very happy to get out of the water. The cold was really getting to me after 15 minutes immersion. The other two guys thoroughly pumped out my kayak, brought it over and joined the raft. I rolled along the decks until I was in position over my cockpit, dropped in, got the sprayskirt in place, and voilà, I was rescued! At that very moment a grey whale surfaced not twenty feet away, no doubt checking to be sure I was ok!

As we paddled for another hour to the lunch spot, I scrutinized every swell and mini wave with utmost caution and marvelled at how all those years of carefully constructed confidence could be gone in a splash. When we reached shore I was so delighted to be there at last, that I wasn't even terribly upset to see the 3" crack in the bow deck of my kevlar boat. That night we were lucky enough to be invited to camp outside a beautiful wilderness cabin with hot, outdoor showers. The ultimate luxury on the day I really needed it!

The rest of the trip was wonderful, but that day's events were never far from my mind. On the final day, we drove back out to San Josef Bay in daylight, to retrieve our vehicles. Along that same logging road, I noticed the most curious sight. At a treacherous curve, a giant old growth tree truck lay completely crushing an old Chevy. Perched on top, a large billboard sternly warned: "Be Prepared for the Unexpected!" If only I 'd seen that at the beginning of the trip.

Lessons Learned

. wear a wet suit
. learn to brace reflexively
. stay alert
. don't be over-confident
. stay close together
. have tow lines immediately accessible
. be aware of the surroundings in which the rescue takes place
. stay calm
. those not directly involved in the rescue should raft up immediately and be ready to help
. above all, be prepared for the unexpected!

Howard Rossman is an avid, but chastened paddle who lives in Crescent Beach, BC.